How's one to know
I'd live and die for moments that we stole
On begged and borrowed time

The next morning we all submitted our full names, ages, previous occupations, addresses, and a list of any close relatives to the UN committee that had been tasked with our relocation. They had some working computers, but no networking, so our names had to be hand-checked against the list they'd compiled of folks who had family looking for them. A couple of new groups had been airlifted out of the GCZ that morning and were being housed in dorms on the floor underneath us, but we kept mostly to ourselves, wary of any strangers.

We spent the day learning more about what had happened in various regions of the country. The south had been less affected by the bombings but had suffered early on from walkers that escaped from Georgia. The east coast, Great Lakes region, and California were a mess because of the bombings, and then radiation poisoning that turned the region into a massive herd of walkers. The military had eventually sealed most of the hot spots off and then used explosives to destroy the majority of the dead but it was still a very dangerous area and cut off from all inter-region trade.

The midwest was the most intact, but had fewer people and struggled to find resources beyond corn and beef, initially. They'd gradually adapted and Johann told us that most areas had thriving communities who'd pulled together.

The northwest had also escaped the worst of the walkers and bombings and had good agricultural resources so communities had more or less pulled through. Unfortunately, wildfires had raged unchecked over the past summer because of the loss of resources with which to fight them, so massive areas had been wiped out, roads and bridges were impassable, and the states had become somewhat isolated, many local governments operating almost independently. In addition, medical care was a shadow of what it had been, so folks with significant medical needs had died in large numbers across the country.

It was a challenge to get very far in this new world, we discovered. All fuel was rationed for trade purposes or the military, and most people stayed close to home. Canada was providing some fuel for humanitarian purposes and had an intact grid, but they'd closed their borders and were dealing with the chaos in their own country caused by the infection and the Chinese aggression.

It sounded like that was the case in most of the world. Less developed nations in Africa, South America, and the Middle East were devastated by the infection, with fewer resources to fight it, and poor infrastructure to get folks the information they needed. Wealthier nations had handled the infection well but were caught up in resisting the Chinese and Russians, who had seized the opportunity to invade smaller countries and absorb them into their power bloc which now included North Korea.

Japan was in a particularly precarious situation and European countries were rallying around them, which left the US to fight its own battles for the most part. I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that there were countries with internet, electricity, and cell phones, while we barely had clean water, but reminded myself that this had always been the case - I had just lived in the wealthier nation and didn't have to struggle to survive.

Regardless of the country, however, it sounded as though the lack of international trade, the constant threat of the dead, and the crumbling of all economies had left even the more intact governments in a precarious state, and I could understand why it had taken so long for any rescue efforts to get underway.

That evening, as we ate our meal of beans and rice, one of the UN representatives walked into the room with a slip of paper and got our attention. "We had our first matches to the inquiry list!" he announced, and a buzz went through the tables. A couple of the folks from Woodbury had been listed by relatives and were directed to report to a communications office in the morning. "Anastasia Brewer-Moreau?" the representative called out, and I raised my hand. "A Mr. John Brewer and Mr. Raphael Moreau have both listed you as missing. Do you recognize their names?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice and he instructed me to report to the same office in the morning, before leaving us. Carol hugged me, and I cried for what felt like the millionth time, in happiness. My father and husband were alive, which meant that there was a good chance the rest of the family had survived as well.

I felt like my cells were buzzing with nervousness and anticipation, and I couldn't sit still. Daryl was deep in conversation with Rick, so I headed to the gym and ran on the treadmill for a while. I was used to a lot more physical exertion than we'd gotten that day and needed to tire myself out. After working up a sweat, I took a shower and headed back to our room.

Daryl was already there, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. The detached feeling I'd noticed from the night before was more pronounced between us, and I wasn't sure what to do about it. It felt like he was pulling away, though I couldn't pinpoint anything in particular that he was doing differently.

I crawled on top of him and kissed him, which he returned, if a little distractedly. I kissed my way down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as I went, and tugged his belt and pants open. He lifted his hips so I could pull them down, watching me closely, but didn't say anything. I kissed along the sharp V of his pubic bone, and ran my tongue across his abdomen, tasting the faint salt of his skin and breathing in the undefinable smell that clung to him even in this sterile environment. He'd stopped smoking ages ago, when it got too hard to find cigarettes, but it seemed like a hint of it lingered in the leather of his vest.

He was hard and ready, belying his neutral expression, and I took him in my mouth deeply, reveling in the hiss that escaped his lips, and licked up his shaft, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock. He'd never let me do this before, and I wondered how long it would be before he took control.

I took him as deeply as I could, relaxing my throat and flicking my tongue along the underside of his shaft on the upstroke. "Shit" he grunted, hips jerking. He laced his fingers through my hair, and gripped the back of my head, thrusting into my mouth briefly before he pulled me off of him and flipped me over. He yanked off my clothes unceremoniously and pushed into me, burying his face in the crook of my neck and fucking me hard.

I arched my back and wrapped my legs around his waist as he thrust more roughly and drew my nipple into his mouth biting down gently and sending electricity through my body. His hand snaked between our bodies and circled my clit, sending me into an orgasm quickly, just as he came with a grunted curse.

As I lay next to him in the dark afterward, it felt like the distance between us had closed a little, but was still definitely there. I had almost drifted off when he said quietly in the dark, "Wanna give ya a tattoo. Jus' small, easy to cover on yer back or somethin'."

I was caught off guard but didn't hesitate. "I want that too. When?" He rolled over to turn on the lantern again and got out of bed. "Right now," he said tersely, going to the small desk in the corner and pulling out ink and a couple of needles, along with some cloth and what looked like rubbing alcohol. He'd clearly been thinking about this, though he hadn't breathed a word of it to me.

He had me lie on my stomach and he laid everything out, then cleaned my skin with the alcohol and began using the needle to push the ink in at the top of my right shoulder blade. I didn't ask him what the design was - I trusted him completely - but it didn't even take an hour to complete, and he didn't say a word the whole time. He took a gauze pad, rubbed some kind of salve over the tattoo, and carefully taped down the bandage.

After he outed the light, I laid my head on his chest and wondered if that would fix whatever was wrong. "Y'ain't worried about what I put on there?" he asked roughly, and I shook my head. "No. I trust you. But I do want to see it when I can find a mirror tomorrow." He ran his hands through my hair and pressed a kiss to the top of my head but didn't respond before I fell asleep.